Transformations and Decisions
by Tar Irene
Summary: Belle must make important decisions concerning the transformations of the Beast and of her life.


_A/N: While I love the ending of the movie, this is my version of everything they left out between the beast grabbing Belle and twirling her right after his transformation, to where he's twirling her arrayed in formal clothing in the ballroom. It ties up some loose ends I don't like hanging over the film, and leaves me open to writing more (although I'm kind of skeptical about that happening)._

Transformation and Decisions

Only dimly aware that the rain had stopped, that she could almost taste the magic falling from the air in its place, that nothing was as it had been only moments before, all Belle could see was a tall and handsome stranger standing in place of the Beast she had been ready to give everything for.

"Belle," the man was saying, looking nearly as astonished as she felt. "It's me!" he cried, advancing on her and clasping her hands. It was impossible to believe, and Belle didn't fool herself into thinking she understood _anything_ that was happening, but somewhere within her she found the courage to let her heart speak. And, looking into those perfectly blue eyes, she knew what her heart thought.

"It is you," she said, blinking back tears. Whether they were tears of extreme joy or extreme shock, she did not know. But the stranger was staring into her own eyes, pulling her toward him as though in a trance, and she was touching him back, then kissing him back, and never had anything felt more wonderful.

All around Belle, the castle was completing an amazing transformation into a veritable palace, complete with messenger angels for buttresses. The very landscape around the castle was changing - no longer the dark forest that had haunted her nightmares, there was now a magnificent countryside brimming with beauty. But these changes barely registered, until he broke off the kiss and all the servants came rushing up. Not, however, the servants Belle knew, but strange people beaming and grinning at her.

For a few moments, the stranger abandoned her for them, embracing them, celebrating with them, beaming with them, until he turned back to Belle, clasped her waist in exuberance, and swung her around in a full circle before bringing her back down to give her another kiss.

She was the one to break off that one, smiling in half-delight, half-bewilderment. She stumbled back a few paces, leaned back against the wall, put her hand over her heart, and tried to catch her breath. "I don't understand," she said simply.

"Belle," the stranger said, hands out as if to appeal to her. "It's all been a terrible curse, a horrible enchantment - you've set us free."

Belle shook her head, still unable to believe it. "I- how?" she stuttered.

"Ah, mademoiselle!" cried the new Lumière, also advancing a few paces towards her. "Ze curse could only be broken by love! And what a love," he added with a chuckle, still grinning at her.

The handsome stranger chuckled and draped a friendly arm across Lumière's shoulders. "Belle, you've given us all a new life." His expression grew serious and he left his servant to step forward once more and take her hands. "You truly are our savior."

Belle just shook her head, helplessly confused. She had thought the one she loved was dead, and with him, her very heart and soul. She had thought there was nothing left to live for, but to die on top of her love, both of them unjustly killed. And now, it seemed he _was_ dead, but not in the fashion she had believed...

Seeing she would not be satisfied with anything less than a full explanation, the stranger lead her to the bench where he sat her down and attempted to explain, from the beginning, the story of the beautiful enchantress. "Ten years ago, an old beggar women came to this castle, asking-"

"Ten years ago!" Belle cried. "But how old are you?"

At that, the stranger spluttered, looked lost, and was unable to come up with an answer. He turned to his servants for help, who all looked as consternated as he. "What year is it?" he finally asked.

"1787, I believe," responded Belle, concerned.

He raised an eyebrow. "How odd - it was only one year ago that the woman came to this castle! But yet it feels like ten." The servants nodded in agreement. "The curse must have manipulated the time to linger here longer than in the outside world. I was 20 when she came, so I must be 21 now..." he trailed off, staring at the forest around the castle. "Anyway," he continued, "it has been a very long time. This old woman came to the castle, and I turned her away. She cursed the entire castle and everyone in it, to remain deformed until I learned to love, and earn someone's love in return..."

"That's awful," Belle said frankly, reaching out a hand to stroke his face. "It sounds like a horribly cruel punishment just for turning someone away."

"Tell me about eet," replied Lumière, holding up an arm and blowing on it before realizing that there was no longer a wick on the end of it. Cogsworth snickered at that behind his back, and Lumière turned to him, an indignant comment on the tip of his tongue.

The handsome stranger forestalled any fight that might have been coming. He laid his hand on top of Belle's, which was resting on his cheek. "It doesn't matter now," he said. "I'd do it all over again if it meant finding you."

Belle blushed prettily, and leaned against him to bury her face in his chest. She rested there for a few seconds, then looked up at him again in wonder. "So this is who you really are..."

"Well, perhaps," he admitted. "I'm still not entirely sure who I am, myself."

"But who _are_ you?" Belle asked, still feeling slightly dazed. "Where did you come from, how did you get to be here? You seem like a stranger to me now."

He shrugged. "My father sent me down here many years ago, ostensibly to govern the southern provinces, but really just to get me out of the way while he concentrated on ordering the rest of the country exactly according to his whims. I believe he has died now, and my brother governs. My family has all largely ignored me, which suits me fine."

Belle's jaw dropped. "Governs? He is a king?"

The stranger, seeming less strange by the minute, looked down at her and nodded. She attempted to hide her astonishment. So the Beast was really a Prince in disguise! She could not believe it; she may have found her own Prince Charming after all. But then, "I'm nobody - an inventor's daughter from a poor provincial town. Surely you don't want anything to do with me..."

He laughed and clasped her hands, holding them tight against him. "Belle, you have saved me. I love you."

Belle felt tears forming in her eyes again. "I love you too," she said shyly, setting off another round of hugs and celebrations among the servants standing in front of them. "And to think I always wondered if love really did exist."

He nodded sympathetically. "I used to feel the same way."

Belle suddenly laughed at herself. "The only man who even pretended to love me was a boorish, arrogant cad. I thought that was what most men were like..."

The Prince frowned. "That madman who attacked me, you mean?"

Belle nodded. "He was sure I would want to marry him, and threatened all manner of things against me and my father if I wouldn't - but oh!" she cried suddenly. "What happened to him? He is a bit mad, but surely he doesn't deserve to die for that."

He frowned some more. "After stabbing me and almost killing me?"

Belle smiled at him distractedly and stood up. "But you're all right! I have to go see if I can find him."

He shook his head, but he was smiling again. "You're too kind for your own good, Belle." He made as if to stand up, but clutched his side and fell back down. Belle, fearing the worst, panicked and flung herself down on the ground next to him in order to look at his side. The wound Gaston had made was still gaping - not enough to kill him, but certainly enough to cause pain. "You're still hurt! You ought to be laying down..."

Mrs. Potts gently bent down and helped Belle to stand up again. "We'll take care of it, my dear, you go look for your young friend." Flustered, Belle started to protest, but Mrs. Potts would hear none of it, and firmly guided Belle out from the balcony. She twisted around to look at the Prince one last time, and although he still looked pained, he managed a brilliant smile for her. Elated, feeling as though she were walking on air, she flew out of the castle and started to look for likely spots where Gaston might have fallen.

A few villagers, some grievously hurt, were lingering around outside, and she directed a few servants, who looked as if they needed something to do, to help them. Compassionate, still feeling pity for Gaston after all he did, Belle finally found LeFou lugging what appeared to be his carcass back in the direction of town.

"LeFou!" she cried out, and he turned towards her, panting and looking ridiculously small under Gaston's bulk. Belle's hand flew to her mouth and she cried, "Is he dead?"

LeFou cast the body onto the ground and shrugged. "Gosh I don't know, how-how can you tell?"

Belle cast an exasperated glance towards him and then bent down to look at the body. To her relief, he was still breathing. It had been a long fall, but he was incredibly healthy and well-built, and hadn't taken the landing too badly. She scolded LeFou for his thickheaded-ness and insensitivity, and sent him running back to the castle for help. He came back with a few well-meaning but clumsy villagers, but they had at least the good sense to bring Philippe with them. Belle loaded Gaston onto the back of her horse, and lead them all back up to the castle, where she deposited Gaston in the care of some servants. Most of the townspeople were sent home with only a few bumps and bruises, and her father followed them on Philippe with Belle's promise to come see him soon, after she decided what she was doing here.

With most of the servants busy with their master in his wing, the rest of the castle was then deserted after the villagers cleared out. Belle lingered at the entrance, looking at the Great Hallway, recalling her first time here - how scared she was, but how determined to find her father - and the last time she rushed through it, mindless with fear for the Beast.

The Beast! So what was she to do, really? She had been prepared to - well, she wasn't entirely sure what, but prepared to give up her life to save the Beast. And now, this beast had transformed into the handsome prince of every girl's dream, resplendent from his perfect fingers to his perfect love for her. She always longed for adventure, but what did adventure mean, exactly? Traveling to far-off places or meeting impossible, fairy-tale princes? Saving the life of a prince or finding the love of one's life? Although she was certain she loved the Beast - the Prince, she corrected herself - she was not so certain that would translate into unconditional happiness.

Belle spent the next few days helping the servants put the castle into pristine order, tending to the Prince - which more often consisted of making him stay in bed than actually doing anything constructive - and trying not to think about the future. All too soon, however, the Prince was up and walking again, and she remembered her promise to return to see her father.

One evening, as they sat out on his balcony again, in each other's arms, he addressed her. "You've seemed very distant, Belle. Are you - happy here?" It was a question she had asked before, and she was no longer so forthcoming with the same answer.

"I don't know," she said slowly. "I haven't really been able to think about it. I love you - with all of my heart - but-"

He interrupted her with a kiss, which she gladly returned. After a while, he said softly, "Belle, I would like you to marry me."

She gasped, although it should not have been that unexpected. "Marry you! But - I don't even know your name."

He smiled ruefully. "I'm not sure it matters anymore, I haven't used it in so long. It's Vincent, but it doesn't matter what you call me - Beast, Prince, anything."

She sighed, and looked out at the forest, toward the distant village. "I promised my father I would go back and see him. Would you give me a week to make up my mind?"

He smiled, and stroked her hair. "Of course, cherie. Anything you wish. Would you..." he hesitated, and she returned his smile. "Would you do me the honor of accompanying me at a ball in a week's time - even if your answer is no?"

Belle's smile widened. "I would love to," she answered, delighted.

Belle returned in one of the castle's carriages, accompanied by Gaston. She was no longer afraid of him, and she knew if he tried anything, the coachman would dispose of him promptly. He knew that too, and his behavior was reasonably civil throughout the ride.

Reasonably civil - or completely cold. He was stiff and silent for most of the ride, finally, when they had almost arrived at the town, knitting his brows together and gritting out, "Thank you for saving my life, Belle."

Surprised, she turned her attention from the window on to him. "It was nothing, Gaston," she said with a kind smile. "I hope you can forgive me for insulting you?"

He didn't look too happy about it, but he nodded. "Of course," was his curt reply. He shot a sideways glance at her again; it was clear he was not over her beauty. But hopefully he had learned that outside beauty meant nothing, was worth nothing. It was what was inside that truly counted.

Back at the village, Belle lived with her Papa in their little house, tended their gardens and animals, encouraged him to start on new inventions, visited the village to trade produce and look for new books, and was polite to every villager, all of whom still stared at her every time she went by. Several times, she caught herself repeating old strains of songs in her head: "Little town, Full of little people... I want so much more than they've got planned."

After three days of this had passed, she woke up one morning admitting to herself that she missed the Beast terribly, that she loved him more than anything else in this life, and that she would never be happy without him. Having made her decision, she went about her chores and errands that morning with a happier song on her lips and a sparkle in her eye. She might miss this village, but it would always be here to visit again if she needed it. On the fourth day, she spoke of the upcoming ball to every villager - even though some still thought her crazy, most were thrilled, and soon the ball was the talk of the town. Everywhere Belle went, she heard excited gossip about who was going and what they were going to wear and what they were going to say to whom when they got there and why. Rolling her eyes, but no longer really bothered by it, she laughed and went about her business.

She spent the sixth day in a state of agitation, fretting over everything from the chickens she would leave behind at the house to whether the Prince truly loved her or merely felt some sort of obligation towards her for breaking the spell. Her father eventually noticed, and accosted her on the subject.

"Belle! You're so distracted. What is wrong, my dear?"

A long sigh escaped her lips, and she leaned against the fence and stared out over the fields. "I love him, Papa. More than I can say."

He beamed. "He certainly seems a nice enough fellow. He will make you happy."

"You really think so!" she exclaimed. "But he-"

"He loves you, Belle. Not for your looks, or your intelligence, or your charm... but for you. And that's good enough for a girl of mine."

Belle smiled back at him, relieved to hear that he thought that way. "Thank you, Papa. No matter what happens... I will always love you, too."

Maurice beamed back and patted her hand absent-mindedly, before wandering off to tinker with his latest contraption. Belle smiled at his back fondly; he was eccentric and a bit of a sot, but he was dear to her and that would never change.

The day of the ball finally arrived, and Belle set off at the head of a procession of villagers wearing their finest, men and women both, all delighted to be invited to this gala at the beautiful palace. Those who had never seen it were eager to, and those who had been there before were looking forward to being received hospitably, for a change. Belle was nervous and squirming inside, but her worries were soon overcome by her hopes. She knew that life with the Beast - Prince - would not be a perfect fairy tale ending; but then, such an ending would probably be rather boring.

The Prince was waiting for her outside, looking more than a little nervous himself. Belle disembarked from the carriage and flew to him, shedding her clock to reveal her splendid yellow décolletage. He received her, beaming, and they embraced and kissed, to cheers from the villagers and servants. He offered her his arm, and led her confidently into the ballroom, which was airy and resplendent with beauty. Delighted only to be close to one another again, they entered the floor and soon lost themselves in the dance. Belle could never remember being this happy in her life.

"I've decided," she whispered gently in his ear during a turn in the dance. He almost froze and missed a step, but recovered with her guidance.

"Yes?" he asked nervously.

"Yes," she replied with her dazzling smile. Barely able to believe his ears, overjoyed, he grabbed her and whirled her off the ground with all his considerable strength. She smiled contently back at him and placed her arms around his neck, drawing him in close. They exchanged another kiss, looking lovingly into each other's eyes, hardly aware of yet another dispute between Lumière and Cogsworth in the background. Belle dimly noted her father standing proudly next to Chip and Mrs. Potts, the chorus and music in the background celebrating their love.

Entirely lost in her Prince Charming, Belle felt certain she had made the right decision.


End file.
